CHAPTER FOUR
In the morning, Zak brought me a cup of tea in bed and apologised for being short with me the night before.
‘Hey, it’s me who should be apologising,’ I insisted, relieved to see a smile on his face. He’d seemed so tired and distracted last night. ‘I should have talked to you first before I blundered ahead with the estate agent. I suppose I’m just so excited about the new house, I just wanted to get on with it.’
He chuckled. ‘I know. And I’m sorry I was so negative about moving last night. It’ll make a brilliant family home for when this little one arrives.’ He placed a gentle hand on my bump and kissed me, and I felt a delicious stirring of desire.
‘It will be.’ I nodded eagerly and ran my hands over his chest. ‘I’ll make sure of it. I’ve already got loads of ideas for the décor. It’s going to be perfect.’ I paused. ‘Can I... are you okay with me project managing and leaving you to concentrate on your writing?’ When he looked a little doubtful, I quickly added, ‘I’ve got the best team behind me to run the café and the bakery, and Anita runs the baking school single-handedly and doesn’t even like anyone else encroaching on her territory. So I’ll have loads of time to liaise with the builder and make sure everything’s going smoothly.’
‘Well, only if you think you can manage it.’ He pulled me closer. ‘I suppose if we’re going to move, it had better be sooner rather than later. We can’t have it clashing with the birth.’
‘Exactly! And also... look, why don’t you think about getting away from all the distractions going on around here and go down to your gran’s for a few weeks? It’s the perfect place to get your creative juices flowing. So peaceful. And you’ll come back all refreshed and with a great idea for your next story.’
He let me go with a reluctant smile. ‘That does sound good.’
‘Well, just do it, Zak! We’ll be fine, Maisie and me. And it’s not as if it’s a million miles away. You can be back here in a couple of hours if we need you.’
He nodded.
‘And you’ll be back every weekend.’
‘Of course. I could set off Friday lunchtime and go back early Monday morning.’
‘Perfect.’ I smiled. ‘So you’ll be able to inspect progress at the house every weekend when you’re back here.’
He grinned. ‘Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll phone Gran.’
‘Great. So . . . I can project manage, then?’
He nodded and I beamed at him, feeling a fizz of excitement inside. ‘It’s always been my dream to renovate a house and then do all the lovely creative stuff like choosing the décor and furnishings.’
‘I know. As long as all you’re doing is overseeing everything. Let the builder and his team do all the hard work, okay?’
‘Of course. I’m not that great at plastering anyway,’ I joked. ‘And I promise I won’t do anything major without talking it over with you first.’
‘Okay. But listen, please don’t go over to the house on your own. Take someone with you or at least wait until the guys are on-site?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve got no intention of visiting on my own.’
‘Yeah. It’s just that the house is in the middle of nowhere. If anything happened – with you or the baby – you’d be all alone with no one nearby to call on for help.’
I smiled. ‘I love that you’re so protective of Sprout and me.’ I patted my bump lovingly. But we’ll be fine. Really we will.’
‘Promise me.’
‘I promise. I’ll take someone with me if the guys aren’t on-site.’ I grinned. ‘Let’s face it, there’s no shortage of friends and customers desperate to take a look inside our dream house. I’ve been boring them silly about it for weeks.’
He grinned. ‘Boring? You? Never. Listen, maybe Rori could do some overtime at the glamping site? Then you’d have more free time to manage the work at the house?’
I swallowed nervously. ‘Great idea!’ Picking up my tea, I took a sip but it went down the wrong way, resulting in Zak having to pat my back and bring tissues to wipe my streaming eyes.
I was thankful for the diversion.
I still hadn’t revealed that Rori was starting her new job the following week. If I told Zak this, he’d refuse to leave me on my own in case I needed his help in Rori’s absence.
And then he’d never have the space to breathe and think – and dream up a plot for his next book...